


The Way

by grapesicle



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 08:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10158851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapesicle/pseuds/grapesicle
Summary: Because ever since the beginning and until the very end, it was all about the way Jackson made him laugh.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a shortie and kinda cute I guess?? I’ve just been too in love with Jinyoung’s laugh and the sincere way Jackson makes him laugh for the past weeks.  
> And erm I liked this pretty much. Hope y’all like it too :D

 

 

 And then the sound was there, stubbornly crawling up Jinyoung’s chest and sliding past his throat, leaving his pouty mouth in an uncontrollable wave of melodious shrieks of laughter even though he had tried his hardest to hold it in.

 As in his most characteristic habit, Jinyoung automatically raised one hand to hide the rows of white teeth his plump lips exposed while stretching the dainty flesh in a wide grin, rosy gums showing and dark eyes crinkling in a cute display of amusement.

 The laughter tickling his chest didn’t fade even when he tried to force it down by pursing his lips tightly together, and soon enough his cheeks were unhelpfully puffing with restrained chortles, all combined with these unattractive sounds of huffs that left his mouth whenever he struggled to stop himself from cackling up that scandalously. The worst was that the joke he’d just been told wasn’t even that funny.

 But then they have never really been anyway, funny it was; not even in the first time Jinyoung had laughed at one of them, accidently eavesdropping on the conversation that took place by the table beside him at his favorite coffee shop. And probably that had been why he had laughed in the first place, because it had been so devoid of fun that it became the funnier he’s ever heard.

 The day Jinyoung had first heard one of those disastrously bad puns was a Thursday. He was seated in the farthest corner of the coffee shop located a few blocks down his apartment, with one book in one hand and one fuming mug of Cafe Latte in another. He would usually go for something else, but that day he had felt like drinking that espresso based drink topped with steaming milk, and so he did.

 The windowpane had reflected his image as he stood by it, mixing his frame with the busy city traffic outside the shop. Afternoon had seeped in through the sheet of glass, smearing the pages of his book with glowy yellow and orange, warming the skin of his fingers as he gripped at the bottom of the worn leather cover. He had classes later into the night that day and so he was simply killing time until then.

 Without any pretence of having something extraordinary or out of boring routine happening to him that afternoon, Jinyoung had limited himself to enjoying his book while sipping from his drink, that until his ears perked up at the sound of the chair around the table beside him scrapping the floor, the thud of one body slumping unceremoniously on it following suit.

 Though he did have glanced at the source of movement then, nothing had really caught his attention in the three seconds he peered over and so he focused back onto the book he held open with one hand. Small talk had blossomed from that side nearly a minute after and with another glance Jinyoung had realized that it was about one person talking on the phone with someone else, the naturally hoarse and at the same time amiable voice reaching in and making him wonder.

 Of course, though his curiosity demanded of him to look a bit higher so to catch a glimpse of the owner of such pleasant voice, Jinyoung, sensate and grounded as he always had been, had forced his dark eyes back to slide over the printed dark words of the page he was currently _trying_ to read.

 But damn it if that deep voice hasn’t been coming off too loud and enthusiastic for it to be ignored that easily by his sharp ears. The raspy baritone kept getting into him as the adjacent phone conversation at the table over went on and on along the line of pretty much superfluous subjects Jinyoung wasn’t really paying attention to. He couldn’t help but pay more attention to it than to his own business. It was beyond himself.

“Why don’t some couples go to the gym?,” the voice had asked to the person on the phone, as blatant and loud as it could have been, and Jinyoung unconsciously held his breath, focusing, downright anticipating the next words the man would spill under that same smooth tone.

 It seemed as though there had been some resistance coming from the other end, because even without looking over and properly witnessing the action with his own eyes, Jinyoung could swear he sensed the man pouting and flailing on his seat in dismay. Maybe he had been too aware of the stranger talking on the phone beside him back then, but at that moment, as the man sighed dramatically into the phone call, he couldn’t just find it in his damn self to give a shit.

 He had wondered what could have done the trick to catch his attention in that overly plain and uninteresting talk between what probably were friends or equally close acquaintances. It wasn’t something Jinyoung did often, sticking his nose into some stranger’s personal life and eavesdropping on whatever conversation the person was having. Jinyoung would usually, commonly, rather mind his own business and that’s that. But this time something had gone off, something he hadn’t the confidence to pinpoint.

 Maybe it had been the man’s pleasant voice that outright attracted him, just like it happened with magnet and steel. Maybe it had been the man’s almost imperceptible yet enjoyably cute foreign accent, the one Jinyoung felt kind of ashamed for so diligently noticing since it dragged the end of the stranger’s words really subtly. Whatever it had been, Jinyoung couldn’t tell. But it had definitely been something.

“No– no, don’t hang up, c’mon, why don’t some couples go to the gym?,” the man was speaking again, whining to the most of his abilities, looking not really far from a four-year-old kid trying to persuade his parents to give him that expensive gift he wanted for his birthday.

 The unlikelihood of that whiny behavior for what looked to be a grown up man had brought one unexpectedly fond smile to lift the corners of Jinyoung’s peachy lips, and he had hastily hid it behind the edge of his porcelain mug, countenance scrunching up a bit in disgust when the Cafe Latte tasted cold and went stale on his mouth. Mug lowered and pushed aside, Jinyoung had then pretended to focus on his book one more time, mind attentive of his surroundings and eagerly awaiting the disclosure of that conversation he hadn’t intended to eavesdrop on but was doing so nonetheless.

 There had been a sudden shaky intake of breath coming from his side, the man likely preparing the ground to drop the rest of his practiced lines, and Jinyoung could definitely hear the bubbly laughter on his voice when he lashed the words out, “because some relationships don’t work out!”

 Jinyoung had expected many things. Being the great reader he was, he had long since read between the lines and caught up with the fact that the stranger was telling a joke to whomever person stood by the phone. Therefore, yeah, he did have expected some indubitably cliché ending for that scene even though not really putting much mind on it, like the man being scolded through the phone and hung up on, or the other person taking pity on him and offering a brief laugh so they could move on and keep up with their conversation, among other things. He did have imagined a bunch of rotes for that phone call scene to take.

 Actually, he had admittedly spent the past ten minutes focusing on that boring conversation and creating theories about what kind of life that stranger on the phone led and what kind of person he was also.

 There’d been absolute no reason for Jinyoung to do such thing, but then there’d been absolute no reason for him not to, too. It was entertaining enough, trying to decipher a person you have no clue about only by the way they talked on the phone. And well, Jinyoung liked entertaining things.

 Anyhow, the key point of the whole thing lay in how Jinyoung had pictured himself as one plain background filler through the entire process of creating possible scenarios on his head, remaining as disconnected as possible to the scene, posing solemnly as an observer that took mental notes of everything to mull about later, if anything.

 And if the key point revolved around Jinyoung being only a spectator, the locker point definitely was that he, in fact, played the main role alongside the man on the phone in that awkward concept.

 Or at least he started doing so when he found himself cackling up unexpectedly at the terribly bad pun the stranger had just spit out, his own odd and sounding nasally laugh travelling traitorously through the pretty much empty ambient, reaching the man on the table over and awakening his attention, a curious snap of head towards Jinyoung’s direction proving just so.

  _Christ_ , he hadn’t intended to laugh. He really didn’t. And the joke had been so lame, for fuck’s sake, that outburst of laughter should have never happened. But it did, and then Jinyoung did his very best not to raise his head from the low angle it was currently settled, surprised eyes digging a hole in the old oak table beneath his elbows, mind trying to believe in how his pursed lips couldn’t fucking stop trembling with the want to release that irresistible and totally hateful laughter heaving his chest.

 Jinyoung really, _really_ didn’t want to laugh. And, unsurprisingly, that only caused him to laugh harder.

 The feeling on his chest, carried by wheezy rumbles that jutted out through the gaps on his ribcage by this amazed and completely stifled laugh he shook with, had been fluttering. It had felt really good to laugh that sincerely and heartily, especially since he hadn’t done so in quite a while.

 But he shouldn’t be laughing that openly, at least not in that unfortunate situation, not when he could feel, _sense_ the stranger guy had one pair of eyes locked on him as he tried to cease his hiccupping chuckles. Jinyoung had scolded himself mentally. It hasn’t been the first time he had embarrassed himself in public, no; but it definitely had been the first one he had made a fool of himself alone and in front of someone whose presence he somehow felt deeply aware of. That was uncomfortably abashing, disastrous, mortifying.

 Trying really hard to recompose himself, Jinyoung had cleared his throat in the most awkward way there were, and then willed his laugh to cease by biting at his tongue. Luckily, it had worked. A few moments later he was back into being his tactful, silent and distant self, shimming on his seat and pretending to focus on his book again. And very luckily, it had worked again.

 That, of course, until he heard the brisk scrape of wood over the linoleum floor by his side for the second time that afternoon and perceived the movement coming from there. Dark eyes lingered on the aged pages of his book, fixated on those words printed in black, but his pricked up ears were on duty, hyperaware of everything.

 Even though he’d been paying exaggerated attention to his surroundings, Jinyoung still found himself tensing up and gripping the edges of his book a little bit tighter when a shadow posed across from him by the table, blocking part of the sunlight that peeked in through the windowpane. Jinyoung gulped down, anticipating what kind of approach the other would take.

 One, two, five, ten seconds had passed by in straining silence and he was already at the verge of man up and yell at the stranger to say something or move, but then there was that voice again, that deep and hoarse voice Jinyoung had been secretly fawning over all along, and it spoke, for the first time directed to him.

“You laughed.”

 Two words. The stranger had said only two words, the kind of ones that were enveloped by mirth and hints of mocking amusement, and even so they succeed on driving a shiver up and down Jinyoung’s spine for five brief seconds. Eyes on him, watching intently. Jinyoung could feel them like rattles on his skin.

 He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to face the owner of that annoyingly charming voice, and part of his brain didn’t want to acknowledge that it was all because he had already pictured one face for that attractive baritone and would be very disappointed to have his expectations shattered if the real man didn’t live up to them. And he didn’t want to be disappointed, not about that.

 But then it would be rude of him not to at least spare one brief glance at someone who was addressing him, wouldn’t it? Jinyoung was well-mannered above all. Being impolite to someone only because he felt somewhat shy and restless on their presence wasn’t something he would be proud of doing.

 Therefore he had inhaled as deeply as he could and finally looked up to meet one startlingly docile and friendly pair of hazel eyes. Jinyoung had blinked, awed, and he was sure as hell he’d gaped right then.

 The man standing in front of him was unbelievably _marvelous_.

 Jinyoung wasn’t one to unabashedly stare at other people, but that day he did. He stared at the stranger who looked down and back at him with a rich, crooked smile stretching his lips, trying to cope with how beautiful that person were.

 He wore black turtleneck sweater and one extremely-soft-looking suede jacket, washed jeans and some shoes Jinyoung couldn’t really admire from his spot but had the feeling they were dark and shiny, just like the man’s doe eyes. His hair looked slovenly, naturally disheveled, and Jinyoung hated the way some of it skirted the man’s forehead in the most comely way to ever exist, making his casual style practically glow with elegance. Face bare and hints of a stubble coloring the region around his rosebud mouth, that stranger indeed looked absurdly handsome on Jinyoung’s eyes, and probably in everyone else’s too.

 It had been awkward to digest how alluring and effortlessly mesmeric the guy in front of him was. Jinyoung had to blink and blink and blink his shock away for nearly one whole minute before he could snap into reality and stop himself from almost piercing a hole into the other’s gorgeous face.

 He had felt a traitorous blush creeping up his chest and echoing all the way to his cheeks when noticing the amused smile the guy had been gracing him with. Jinyoung could’ve smiled back, damn did he want to. However, choosing to preserve the rest of dignity left on him, he chose to put up an unfazed front and had acted his way out of shyness through the most idiot method he knew.

 Closing his still gaping mouth and frowning in fake confusion and bewilderment, Jinyoung eased the words out, kinda unapproachably, “excuse me?”

 The man didn’t budge, in fact looking even more entertained and amused than before. One of his hands had gone up to point at Jinyoung somewhat accusingly, borderline childishly, but Jinyoung had been too focused on how cute those fingers were to actually care about anything else. “You did. Just now.”

“So?”

“You know, it’s rude to eavesdrop on someone else’s conversation.”

 Jinyoung had nearly choked on thin air at that, especially because it had hit home dead-on, accurate to a tee, but thanks god the most of a reaction that slipped through his composure filter were bulged eyes and an incredulous look. He was proud of himself. Mouth opening in a round shape, he had replied, “I didn’t?”

 The man grinned for some reason Jinyoung wasn’t able to catch up with. They didn’t seem to be on the same page, anyway; the guy clearly enjoying that confrontation as Jinyoung wondered why in hell he’d been approached for something as banal as laughing at a bad pun he’d heard on accident.

 As for emphasis or simply out of one still unknown habit, the guy had placed both hands on his hips and inflated his chest, inhaling deeply. “You did, yes.” And Jinyoung couldn’t help reveling at how the other man’s mouth would form a natural pout whenever he spoke. Cute.

“I was reading my book.” Jinyoung had tried defending his ego, casually waving the book he had in hand as to convince the other that he indeed was engaged in such thing instead of minding someone else’s business. Not even himself believed in that bullshit, though.

“What’s there to laugh in ‘As I Lay Dying’?”

 The guy had a point. Jinyoung didn’t pipe down, though. “Have you ever read it?”

“Nope.” The man had grinned wider, seemingly content with himself for never reading the book in question, as though that had been something worth it of being proud of.

 Jinyoung had strangely felt like chuckling at that kind of behavior, but he suppressed it, just as he’d been doing with this restless burn settled on his chest that itched and prickled whenever he stared up at that other person for more than five seconds straight.

 One victorious raise of eyebrow was everything he had done to express how amused he was by the answer he got. Exchanging his stare from the man in front of him to the book clutched between his fingers, Jinyoung coolly pretended to go back to reading the novel on his hand as though the conversation had reached an end, or likewise lost its appeal. “Then there it is.”

 Out of the corner of his eyes he could see movement brushing in one more time and soon enough he caught sight of one beautiful pair of hands resting over the opaque surface of the table. He had glanced up, trying to look as uninterested as possible, but it must have been something on his eyes that delated him because as soon as he fixated them on the other man, the guy rewarded him with the most inviting and friendly smile he’d ever seen, that kind of smile that reached one’s eyes as well as lightened the person’s whole face up in a beam of pleasant niceness.

“My friends rarely laugh at my jokes,” the guy had offered then, taking the seat opposite to Jinyoung, looking comfortable enough as to pry in the neglected mug lying by the end of the table with a look that hinted how he was trying to figure out what kind of beverage was that, only by peering at the pattern of colors swimming in the surface. Jinyoung had found that kinda cute. Again.

 Jinyoung had felt his heart swell with adoration for that endearing personality the stranger promised to harbor both outside and inside his skull, scolding his pansy-ass one heartbeat later. There was absolute no reason for him to feel that flattered for having someone as nice sparing some time and attention on him. The man was probably just acting out of his natural beaming self, treating Jinyoung just like he would to anyone who’d be seating alone in a coffee shop so lonely that had even laughed at someone else’s antics and idiot jokes.

 Of course, it must be something in that field. Because really, someone as handsome, attractive, humorous and ungodly nice like that man wouldn’t be actually interested in Jinyoung’s company that much as to go all the way to pipe up some conversation between them. That didn’t make sense, and Jinyoung only believed in things that did.

 He had laid the book on the wooden table after what felt like half a minute, front cover facing down, the thick volume now closed with one greenish bookmark peeking from between the pages. Propping his upper half on elbows, he leaned forward just slightly, watching in delight how the other man did the same as though they were about to share a secret.

 Something inside his guts churned and turned upside down, tingling, fluttering, but he ignored it, in preservation of his sanity. Licking at his lips in cockiness, he had dropped, “I can imagine why. They suck.”

 There was mischief shining in those hazel pools, Jinyoung could see the twist of a smirk pulling at the corner of that ravishing mouth, entertained and diverted, but he was still caught by surprise when those lips moved as to speak in such a triumphant tone. “So you admit you overhead them.”

 Jinyoung had nearly yelled in frustration, and he had to admit it, in deep amusement too. “I didn’t!”

 The guy had done it then, he had cackled up. Easily and openly like that. And he had laughed in the funnier, most ridiculous way Jinyoung remembered to have ever heard, sound high-pitched and screechy and goofy, laughter rich with emotion and sincere elation. Jinyoung unhelpfully chuckled at the way the other’s face scrunched up while guffawing heartily. There was a tiny possibility of Jinyoung having fallen in love with that cute, odd laughter right then, but he wouldn’t admit it ever so soon.

“I’m Jackson.” The man had said after a while, face rosy pink from chortling so hard. There was this brief moment where Jinyoung simply regarded him, Jackson, and his heart did that thing. That kind of thing where he felt so impossibly warm and cozy inside it didn’t feel real, or even possible. And Jinyoung had felt as though there wasn’t oxygen enough in the world that could normalize his breathing once again.

“I’m not interested.” He had said nonetheless, stubborn and witty just like his nature demanded of him, but after glancing up to the still giggling Jackson, he gave in. “Jinyoung.”

“Jinyoung.” Jackson had echoed and Jinyoung tried his best not to grin lively at the sound his name had while being lunged out by such deep voice, “hey, Jinyoung-ssi,” he added up, eyes glimmering with endearment. Jinyoung’s breath had caught in anticipation, heart pounding on his chest, and Jackson made himself more comfortable on his seat by the window at that coffee shop. “Want to hear another?”

 Jinyoung had wanted to, and he actually did after little to no resistance. That day, his friendship with Jackson had blossomed, beautifully and unlikely blooming from a seed he hasn’t even noticed was there, growing branches and foliage as the roots got stronger deep down into the ground.

 And Jinyoung had been so glad for that, for coming to know Jackson and be able to rejoice the man’s company, thanking fate every day and night. And he still kinda were even now, utterly glad for having Jackson beside him that was, as they stood in the shitty living room of his apartment, with Jinyoung laughing heartily at another bad pun Jackson had just told him. He was happy, truly and impossibly.

 Although having his body shrinking back as he curled up on the sofa in sheer embarrassment for laughing so openly and easily like that at something as stupid as that last joke had been, Jinyoung still had the admirable presence of mind to hold both his hands up in front of his expressive face in a protective way when Jackson grabbed his wrists and playfully tugged at them, trying to reveal his contorting features to whoever was lucky enough to catch a glimpse, even though they were alone in there.

 Jackson was also laughing, had been doing so for quite a while now, tone pitched and adorably strangled in that cute way only he managed to pull off, but it was more like he was laughing at Jinyoung than along with him. Not that it really mattered, though. Jinyoung loved Jackson’s laughter either way.

 They fought like two little kids in a sandbox then, pulling and pushing and swatting, Jackson climbing onto Jinyoung’s lap and straddling his thighs in order to pin the bigger frame down the cushions and stop it from wriggling so hard in tries of getting free. That made Jinyoung laugh even more, louder still, and his head lolled from one side to another doggedly while his crossed arms blocked Jackson’s attempts to get closer and withdraw his hands from over his chuckling face.

 The sound of Jackson’s highly pitched cackle reached Jinyoung’s ear alarmingly close at some point, just as though Jackson was now leaned all over his body with hot huffs of air tickling the prominent corner of his jaw line, and so Jinyoung flailed aimlessly, clumsy gasping for breath.

 Interesting how Jinyoung and Jackson worked.

 Their personalities, though undeniably different in essence, had so much alike; the both of them had so much in common. It was like the differences in them were also the ones that linked them together as a good, incredibly harmonic match. They’d give just as much as they’d get, and maybe that was the strongest dot that connected them, this desire of never giving in, and how that pushing and pull dynamic between them worked just fine as a fuel to their flaming relationship of constant teasing.

 Jinyoung liked the way they worked, even though sometimes he wasn’t able to verbally describe it. And he knew that this lack of verbalism between them usually tended to distort things, to get the true intent of their actions coming off as misunderstood and misinterpreted, occasionally hurting feelings when the sole purpose had been to flatter one another and only that. Jinyoung did know that.

 But he couldn’t help getting tongue-tied and fumbling around with words whenever he wanted to transmit something more sentimental, deep and meaningful to Jackson, words failing him over and over again. Therefore, his only hope fell back into mimicking his way through it, because really, words weren’t enough to fully express how wonderfully they completed each other, neither were them truthful enough as to properly describe how in love Jinyoung has fallen for the slight shorter and older man.

 Luckily, gestures kinda were. Of course there still was some conflict flaring up here and there and in between sometimes, but they slowly grew used to it; well, at least used enough to it as to make it work better than broken messages and misplaced phrases. And so they relied on gingerly touches and gestures whenever their brains failed at forming full sentences to express what they were feeling.

 It was interesting indeed, the way they worked. And it was even more interesting because they made it work, and they did it flawlessly.

 The moment that carried their childish fight for dominance ended when Jinyoung jabbed at Jackson’s ribs and the man yelped in fake hurt, rolling out of Jinyoung’s lap and flopping by his side onto the sofa looking scandalized and betrayed. The jab had been pretty much gingerly, really more like a playful prod than a real sharp hit, but Jackson still overreacted it to the most of his abilities by holding a spot centimeters bellow his clothed chest as though one rib were broken and he were about to die from internal bleeding.

 Jinyoung, who had actually managed to lessen his laughing section to a steady set of quiet giggles by then, pouted in whining dismay and then punched Jackson’s arm in reprehension for being so excessive, what pleasantly reaped another round of bubbly giggles from his friend, and also from himself.

 The silence that followed was a comfortable one, the both of them high on joyfulness and pure bliss only by being together. Jinyoung loved those kinds of moments the most, lived for them. He turned to look at Jackson with whiskers adorning the corners of his almond eyes as he smiled. Jackson was already looking back at him when he did. They stared, back and forth, drowning in each other’s orbs.

 There had been several other moments just like that one before, of course. They weren’t unfamiliar with that tingling feeling of fluttery that crept up their skins whenever they engaged in those deep, meaningful locking of gazes. And sincerely, that must have been why Jinyoung didn’t even flinch when Jackson scooted closer over the sofa and hesitantly leaned in.

 It was so gentle, the way they lips touched. A bit ticklish, Jackson’s stubble scratching Jinyoung’s smooth cheeks as they tried to make it work by tilting their heads in opposite directions, but gentle nonetheless. Jinyoung dragged his lower lip across Jackson’s as they adjusted. And then they were kissing, like really kissing, for the first time ever.

 Even though that felt odd and kinda out of sorts during the first few seconds, it also felt pretty much right and so familiar somehow that it got really hard to explain, too confusing and understandable at once.

 It felt like an avalanche of turbulent feelings was washing down on them, burying them in their own choked up emotions, bringing them all to the surface only to have them splashed on their faces. But _god_ , it felt so intoxicatingly good. Jackson’s lips tasted addictively. And Jinyoung has sort of always expected them to.

 When Jackson deepened the kiss, tongue darting between parted lips before languidly slipping inside, Jinyoung sighed contently and cocked his head into a better angle. Jackson’s hand came up to Jinyoung’s face, brushing his cheek ever so delicately as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch. That warmed Jinyoung’s heart. He wasn’t used to Jackson behaving that shy and hesitant around him, so it was a refreshing change.

 Though they could have perfectly heated things up from there, the both of them chose to stick to tender kisses and soft make out that day. Of course, the way Jinyoung’s teeth closed over Jackson’s lower lip and dragged along the swelled flesh hasn’t been one of much mellowness, but whatever.

 They pulled away not much longer after that, Jinyoung opening his eyes to regard Jackson’s eyelashes fluttering slightly with so much adore it hurt. His heart was hammering inside his ribcage and his mind churned, making him light-headed. He loved Jackson with all his being, there wasn’t doubt in that.

 And somewhere deep inside of him, he believed that Jackson felt the same. Maybe not in the same intensity, there was no way he could tell it with certain, but he knew that the look on Jackson’s eyes whenever he looked back at him wasn’t one of someone who didn’t feel something for him back.

 Jackson opened his eyes then, a graceful smile pulling at his spit-slick lips, and the next second he was leaning further and rubbing his cheek against Jinyoung’s in an affable, heartwarming gesture. Jinyoung chuckled, tone raspy and deep, and breathed in the sweet essence Jackson’s skin owned.

 That was the first time they’d kissed. Oddly enough, it didn’t feel like so; it felt so casual and relaxed, practiced if he dared to say so, as though they were meant to do as such soon or later, and have been only waiting for an appropriate moment. Jinyoung felt at ease though his whole body still buzzed with elation in the aftermath. It was such a wonderful feeling, he loved it. Just as much he loved Jackson.

“You know what?,” it was Jackson the one to say and Jinyoung smiled toothlessly at how way hoarser his voice sounded, humming only to let the other know he was listening. The man huffed out a tiny laugh as cradling his face in Jinyoung’s head and neck junction. “You kiss really good.”

“I kiss great.” Jinyoung corrected, sounding witty and smug even though his skin rattled with shyness and his face heated up. Jackson slapped at his tight in reprehension and then they were childishly wrestling over the creaky leather of the sofa once again.

 Neither of them was actually aware of how they ended up lying down together in there, limbs tangled in a likewise hugging position, Jackson’s weight pressuring Jinyoung’s ribs as they stood half over the seat and half leaned against the backrest.

 Jinyoung nudged at Jackson’s side and the man squealed in both surprise and amusement, leaning back until he was seating over Jinyoung’s thighs and straddling his legs one more time. The sound coming off Jinyoung’s mouth was more like a breathless wheeze than a constant laughter, and Jackson howled while pointing at the other’s face, totally entertained by that ugly and borderline cute noise. Jinyoung tried to push him away, squirming beneath strong muscles, but Jackson simply straddled him fiercer.

 “You know what else?,” Jackson was saying again while Jinyoung flailed and reached up to smack a punch over Jackson’s chest in tries to break free, feigning being really into escaping from those caging legs but hoping to god that Jackson would never let him go. “I think I might love you.”

 Jinyoung suddenly froze. All his body went still, mouth gaping and dark eyes bulging in a cartoonish way. It would have been funny, really, if his heart weren’t sending erratic waves of blood to burn his veins as if they were acid instead.

 Breath caught on his throat, Jinyoung looked down and away, uncomfortable, sadly missing how Jackson’s mood shifted to one of shame at the very lack of response. “This one wasn’t funny,” he said in a line of voice when he felt Jackson suddenly shimming back on his lap and getting ready to leave, awkwardly holding onto the man’s waist to keep him in place despite himself.

 The thought of Jackson taking his warmth away that soon scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want to let go even though having that lame joke twisting a knife into his feelings and making his soft heart bleed.

 Jackson stared down at him and the serious look shining on those hazel depths felt out of place since Jinyoung was more used to seeing mirth dancing in there instead. There was this slight hurt edge to the man’s voice when he spoke, “it wasn’t a joke.”

 Jinyoung swallowed down the hope that threatened to crawl up his throat and make him choke. His heart swelled with some shit kind of gloomy happiness at the prospect of Jackson being truly serious in this. He wanted to believe in that, in what he’s been waiting to hear for years now. However, this fear of having his deepest feelings shattered he carried kept him skeptical to the core.

“Am I that goofy that you won’t ever take me seriously?” Jackson asked, softly, when one minute went by and Jinyoung hasn’t said a word. There was this sad smile adorning those ravishing rosebud lips, and it hurt so bad, so deep and raw, it hurt so much to see Jackson that vulnerable that Jinyoung couldn’t stop himself from cupping the man’s face in his hands to pull him down and into a borderline suffering kiss.

 Jackson made a startled noise in the back of his throat when Jinyoung sucked his lips so dependably fierce it looked as if he would crash and fall if he didn’t. He wasn’t ready for that, hasn’t hoped for such twist, but damn him if his whole body didn’t react avidly and positively to the way Jinyoung claimed him.

“That’s not it, that’s not.” Jinyoung uttered against his moist lips when they parted, too soon for their liking but still, sounding almost desperate for Jackson to believe in him and that way succeed to sweep that gloominess from the older man’s face. “I’m just–, it’s just–”

“Self-preservation?,” the older intervened, once again softly, “so you won’t hurt that bad if you’re being played to and actually fall for it?”

 For a few moments Jinyoung had limited himself to open and close his mouth, words getting stuck every time he tried to lash them out in an embarrassing outburst, but then he gave in and simply acquiesced as dejectedly shrugging one shoulder as far as his position allowed him to.

 Jackson leaned in again, brushing his lips against Jinyoung’s in the chastest way there were, reveling in the meek tremble he felt coming from the younger’s mouth. “It wasn’t a joke.” He repeated, reassuringly.

 Jinyoung breathed in. He believed it more this time, not because Jackson was repeating himself, but because the look on his eyes told him so. They were so sincere, those pretty eyes. And that was when Jinyoung remembered once again about the way he and Jackson worked, about the way they communicated better through gestures than words.

 That was all true. They did tend to misinterpret one another when words got in the way, hurting themselves without having the intent to, and _god_ he was so glad they could at least understand each other through body language. Every once in a while he wondered if that silent communication they had wasn’t the purest and most honest way to trespass their feelings. And sometimes he admitted that yeah, it was.

“I think I do, too.” Jinyoung whispered after what probably have been three or four minutes of one sweet make out session, swollen lips ghosting over Jackson’s as he spoke, saying it like he suspected he loved Jackson back even though he was already vigorously certain of it himself by now.

 And Jackson looked as if he knew that, as if he knew Jinyoung was a hundred percent sure of loving him back with all his heart. How could the man spot it so clearly on Jinyoung’s blushing face, he couldn’t tell; but Jackson simply knew it. And the beaming expression which lightened up his handsome features right after Jinyoung had sketched one shy smile with his mouth stated just how much delighted by it Jackson was. Jackson was practically glowing. Jinyoung felt his heart contracting in endearment.

 Jackson lay down on top of Jinyoung again, the leather creaking funnily beneath their slouched bodies, trying to make himself comfortable in that new position and completely ignoring Jinyoung’s empty complaints of how heavy he was and how suffocated he was feeling while pinned to the sofa like that. “Hmhm. I always knew you had some kind of mad crush on me, ever since the beginning.”

“You did fucking not.” Jinyoung chastised in a whiny tone, stubborn even. He could feel the other man’s breath tickling one spot right above his collarbone and it really shouldn’t have awakened one pleasant thrill to run along the expanse of his back, but it did. Hopefully Jackson didn’t notice it, or else he’d be teasing him about it until next month.

“I fucking did!,” the older between them whined back, looking like the younger one not for the first time and definitely not for the last. Jinyoung rolled his eyes in fake annoyance and shrieked a laugh when Jackson slapped a hand over his chest, the both of them giggling together. “You make me happy, Jinyoungie. The happiest.” Jackson confessed after a heartbeat, meaning every word, smiling kindly and brightly through them all.

 Jinyoung stared at the man dropped above him for a moment, the way his breath unhelpfully caught on his throat again having absolutely nothing to do with how Jackson climbed even higher on top of him and crossed those strong arms over his chest, elbows poking at ribs and making it tickle.

 Jackson made him happy, too. With all those lame puns and extra behavior. Jackson made him the happiest. And since there was no way he could fully transmit it through words of love without getting awkward himself and ending up screwing the moment and everything else up, Jinyoung simply smiled his most sincere and glad smile before cupping Jackson’s face and skirting his thumb over a cheek, affably. And Jackson seemed to understand it, because he leaned in the touch and closed his eyes, the fondness of his own grin warming Jinyoung’s chest.

 They kissed again, and it was so sweet. They melted into it. And when they pulled back after a while, Jackson still found it in himself to make some bad joke about how they should watch Netflix and chill now that they’ve come to terms with how they felt about each other.

 The worst was that, once again, Jinyoung couldn’t stop himself from laughing heartily at it. Because ever since the beginning and until the very end, it was all about the way Jackson made him laugh.

 

 


End file.
